


Coming Together

by MissMaryMack (LadyMalchav)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: ABO, Alpha Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood Kink, Claiming, Claiming Bites, Come Inflation, Crying, Crying Sam Winchester, Dirty Talk, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Incest, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Knotting, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Love, Marking, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Misunderstandings, Mpreg, Omega Sam Winchester, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, POV Sam Winchester, POV Second Person, Pain Kink, Pregnant Sam Winchester, Riding, Rough Sex, Scent Kink, Self-Lubrication, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-07-15 20:39:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16070885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMalchav/pseuds/MissMaryMack
Summary: Alpha Dean's rut triggers Omega Sam's first heat.





	1. Coming Apart

The fog of your heat is making time feel fake. You know it’s been hours since you first felt the warmth in your body and the slick leaking down your leg. Hours that you’ve been trying to give yourself what you need, to no avail. Hours of knowing relief, what you’ve wanted since even before all this, was just upstairs. Hours of feeling like you’re bathing in the best smell you’ve ever encountered and knowing it was within your reach, if you could just make yourself get up off the couch and take it. But self doubt keeps you right where you are.

At some point you’re on the stairs and you’re not sure how you got there. You’re naked except for a sweat-drenched undershirt that sticks to your body in the most unpleasant way. You stop right before the door and peel it off.

Somewhere there’s a voice in your head telling you you shouldn’t, you mustn’t, it’s wrong and bad and he’ll hate you, but the rest of you is screaming that it’ll be oh so good. You go to where the smell is most concentrated. You open the door.

And there’s Dean, in the middle of his rut, eyes shut, fucking in to his hand in the middle of the bed, making the most desperate, delicious sounds. You are drawn to him, the source of the smell. You’re on the bed, kneeling next to him, and he doesn’t even realize you’re in the room. 

You shift, and more slick leaks out of you. Dean sniffs the air, and shouts as he comes. Opening his eyes, he blinks wearily at you, his eyes clouded. “Sammy?” he asks more than says.

“Dean,” you reply, raking your eyes over his sweat-slicked body. His cock, still hard, is beautiful, and you want to try it, see if it tastes as good as he smells.

“Sammy, what…” Dean’s asking again, but you don’t have an answer for him. You hardly know yourself at the time. You just know you need, and this is where you can get.

“Dean, please,” you whine, making eye contact again.

“Sam. You. What happened?”

“I guess I’ve presented.” it takes everything in you to be coherent, but there’s that voice inside you again, telling you, against all instinct, talking is necessary.

Dean’s eyes widen open. 

“Sam, no!”

“Dean, please,” you whine again, instinctively exposing your neck.

“Sammy, I can’t. You don’t. You deserve…” Despite his words, Dean’s leaning into you, one arm reaching out.

“I know you think… But I want…” Every word is a chore. Everything you’ve ever wished for has happened. Almost. You have to convince him, you knew you would. You just didn’t know it would be this hard just to speak. You both begin talking at the same time.

“I want…” “Would ruin…” “Always have…” “You can’t…” “Please!” “I’m not…” “It’s always been…” “Stop saying that!” “I love you!”

You lock eyes once again, falling silent.

“Why?”

“Just ‘cause.”

Dean looks like he’s about to give in, but, tears in his eyes, pulls back at the last second. Knowing your chance at happiness, at love, at everything is falling away, you move your shaking limbs, turn around, and present, one last word falling from your lips.

“Alpha.”

You chance a glance back in time and see his eyes swallowed in red.

His body is suddenly draped across your back, heavy and hot, his cock sliding in the wet crack of your ass, catching on your rim with every thrust. You moan and push back into it. Dean growls and you’re glad you just spent the last few hours finger fucking yourself as he lines his cock up with your hole and pushes in with no prep.

You are mounted, there is no other word for it. You cry out at the burn and the stretch. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, you feel like you’re being torn in half, yet it’s exactly what you need. What you were yearning for for who knows how many hours alone on that couch. 

Hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, Dean pushes until he is seated entirely inside you. Then he immediately pulls out and thrusts back in again, grunting as he bottoms out.

There’s a high pitched whining filling the air, mixing with the grunts and growls Suddenly you realize it’s coming from you. You force yourself to take a breath as Dean sets up a brutal pace, pulling almost all the way out of you so the head of his cock pulls at your rim before thrusting back in hard. You cry out at each thrust, though the pain had bled out to pleasure, the fullness becoming welcome rather than intrusive. You hang your head down between your arms, hair falling in your face, as Dean fucks you hard enough to drive you across the bed.

Hot pressure builds in your stomach, but not enough by the time you feel his knot expanding and pressing at your rim.

“Yes! Please! Alpha, knot me!” You cry, “Knot me, fuck me, breed me, Alpha!” Dean pulls out to thrust in again, but this time pulls you back onto him, forcing his knot inside you. You clench down as it pops in to you, enlarging further, binding you together as Dean begins to come.

You feel wave after wave of hot come filling you, and you clench around Dean’s cock to milk him of every drop. According to everything you’ve read and heard, you should be coming, too, but your untouched cock slaps against your stomach as Dean continues fucking you as best he can unable to pull out, grinding his cock deeper inside you as he comes.

Eventually you both still, both breathing harshly. Dean’s hands leave your body.

“Shit,” he hisses behind you. Then “Fuck!” yelled louder.

“Dean,” you whine, begging, “please.”

“Oh fuck, yeah, just…” Dean cradles your body to his chest, laying you in your side to wait out his knot.

“No, Dean. Please, touch me,”

“Fuck, you didn’t?“ Dean drapes his arm over your hip, taking your poor neglected cock in hand, “I’m such a fucking failure, can’t even please a virgin in bed,” You know he’s trying to joke, to somehow already clear away what had happened with his dick still in your ass.

He wraps his hand around your cock and strokes quickly, mainly concentrating on the head.

“Dean,” you moan, grabbing tight the arm jacking you off with both hands. It doesn’t take long for you to come with Dean and his scent all around you, the pressure of Dean’s dick buried inside you, and his hand on your cock. You clench around him again as you come over his hand. The stimulation makes him come again with a whispered curse. There’s so much come in your ass some leaks out even around the plug of Dean’s knot, and your belly is slightly rounded.

You let go of Dean’s arm and he wipes his hand off on the sheets, then pulls it back behind you. You breathe in tandem for a minute. Any part of you that doesn’t have to be touching isn’t. You yearn for Dean’s warmth, for skin on skin, but all you get is his breath on the back of your neck. The longer Dean goes without speaking, without hormones clouding your thought and your sight, you still know you did the right thing, but wonder if you did it the right way. You fight sleep as you search for the words to make this right.

Suddenly Dean sets his forehead on the back of your neck. 

“What have I done?” he whispers, as if to himself.

“What I wanted,” you reply, though none was needed.

“Fuck what you wanted, Sammy. I should have controlled myself. I should have been able to keep my alpha in check. I’m always fucking things up.”

“No you’re not,”

“Yes I am. And now I’ve fucked you up, too.”

You wish you could turn and look Dean in the eyes. It was always easier to know what he was really thinking that way, and to get him to believe you.

“I wanted this. I wanted you,” you repeat yourself. You can feel Dean shake his head.

“Nah, that was just the heat thinking for you. I was just a convenient knot.”

“Shut up and listen to me!” Instead of taking Dean’s stupid face in your hands and staring holes in his eyes to give your words more weight, you lean back into your brother’s chest, hoping it gets the same meaning across as you talk. 

“ You are not just convenient, or easy, or ‘fucked up’, or any of the things you’re thinking right now. I want you. I’ve wanted you. You are all I have ever wanted, Dean. I don’t even remember not wanting it. When you presented I started praying to be an omega. So I could be your omega. Your mate. Yours.”

Dean is silent, but he doesn’t pull away. You awkwardly fling your arm behind you in the closest approximation to a hug you can give at the moment.

“Now, I’ve just been thoroughly fucked by the love of my life, and I need to sleep before the next wave of heat hits,” you speak as authoritatively as you can in your position, “You should do the same. I love you.”

 

You don’t really expect a reply, supposing Dean is still thinking or self-flagellating, or just shocked at your speech, but before you nod off, you feel him smile into your skin and whisper ‘I love you too.”


	2. Coming Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you wake up again you feel better. No sweat covers your body, no slick coats your thighs, you feel cool and clean; your heat is over.  
> You are also alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be part 3 with another chapter between this and the first, but I really struggled.  
> If there's any mention of something happening that didn't happen in part one, that's why.
> 
> There miiiiight be an epilogue after this... maybe.
> 
> Comment if you want more!

When you wake up again you feel better. No sweat covers your body, no slick coats your thighs, you feel cool and clean; your heat is over.

You are also alone.

Although it has been covered in some clean, if musty, sheets sometime while you slept, the bed beside you is empty and cold. 

You try not to panic. You fail. It’s a big house you’re squatting in, he could be in the bathroom or the living room downstairs; cleaning cause you know you left the couch a mess. 

Or maybe he’s just gone. He panicked again and without you conscious to quell his fears he bolted. Noooononononononono, that couldn’t have happened, he can’t have abandoned you, he promised! But the bed doesn’t even smell like him anymore, and how long would he have had to be gone for that to happen? 

While all this was going through your head you’ve been pacing, going from one side of the bed to the other. Now you sit, almost fall, dejectedly on to the mattress. You put your head in your hands and you cry. You thought that you’d made it. Through his panic and his stubbornness and fear. You thought his promises were real and his love and lust for you would keep him at your side, finally! You thought you had said all the right things to make him understand, to make him stay. But you must have fucked up somewhere. You got one chance, and you blew it. Fucked up the most important thing in your life.

As you sit and you cry with deep wracking sobs, you don’t hear the footsteps on the stairs. You don’t see the door creak open. You almost miss the muffled ‘What the fuck?’ But you do hear the tray full of dishes come crashing to the floor as Dean abandons them and not you.

Dean is there, wearing sweatpants and a white undershirt, a bewildered expression, and now what looks like most of breakfast. He instantly kneels in front of you and grabs your wrists, and pets your face, pleading with you to tell him what’s wrong. You just sob more, in happiness this time, and bury your face in his neck to be surrounded in his familiar scent.

“I- I thought- you- were- GONE!’ you get out between sobs. “I thought you left me!’ You know how pitiful you sound, but you just can’t help it. To get what you had gotten, then have it all cruelly torn away was too much, even if it did turn out to be a misunderstanding. “Don’t ever do that again!” you shout.

Dean pulls you to his chest, wraps his arms around you, and holds you tight whispering calming nonsense until you calm down.

“It’s okay. I’m here” he cups your chin and brings your face up to his. “I didn’t leave you,” he says with a quick kiss to your lips, “I’ll never leave you,” and another. “If you need me next to you every morning until you wake up, that’s where I’ll be, Sammy,” he says with a smile. “Besides I think we’ve got some more pressing business to attend to right now”

“The only pressing anything I care about right now” you say as you slide your hands under his shirt, “is you pressing me against this mattress and fucking my brains out”

“Sammy!” Dean says, mock shocked

“What? After what we’ve been doing this weekend you’re going to get prude on me now?” you reply with a raised eyebrow of disbelief.

“Well, I thought,” he responds, actually blushing “I thought after the… intensity of… you know… I thought we might.. take it slow?”

“Nah.”

“NAH? What do you mean, ‘nah?’” he’s actually shocked now.

You remove your hands from the warmth under his shirt to cup his face where he’s leaning over you 

“Dean, I have been wishing and begging and hoping for this… wanting this since I discovered what it was to want. Now that I have it? I don’t want anything else. I don’t want slow. I want you, now. So ‘nah’, you plant a kiss on his lips, “Now fuck me, Alpha!”

Dean doesn’t have to be told a third time.

He scoops you up, laughing, and all but throws you up the bed. The ancient bed springs squeal under your weight as you bounce and giggle. He takes the time to strip off his soiled clothes, and then he is on you. 

You smile wide at each other before Dean leans in to kiss at your neck. You tilt your head to give him more room, and moan. You grab at his hair to hold him right there at your pulse point and he takes the hint and sucks until blood blooms on your skin. 

You moan louder, imagining him biting you there, claiming you as his own. Slick starts to leak out of you and you spread your legs further to accommodate your brother’s thick body between them.

You gasp as he enters you where you’re wet and still open from before. It feels different than when you were in heat; less intense, your body less yielding, and you feel it more.  
You wrap your legs around his hips and press, encouraging him to sink deeper, which he does readily with a groan. 

“You feel so good, Sammy,” he sighs against your neck, then kisses your lips. He pulls out again, almost completely, so you can feel the flared head tugging at your rim, before sinking back into your heat. He sets up a slow, lazy rhythm like that. It’s hardly what you need, but still so so good.

As he sinks in to you again, his hands drift from your hips to your sides to your chest where he focuses on your pert nipples, running the pads of his thumbs over the hard nubs of them. The sensation in counterpoint to the slow drag if his cock and the fervor of his lips hypes you up, makes you pant into his mouth, and make high-pitched whines in the back of your throat. All the stimulation still isn’t enough, though, and you find yourself pushing back in to his thrusts, trying to get something you don’t even know what.

“Dean, please,” you beg.

“What, Sammy? What?” he answers, stops kissing you long enough for you to answer.

“Let me… let me be on top,” you breathe.

“Fuck yeah,” Dean whispers, thrusting into you one more time before pulling out. You almost whimper oat the empty feeling he leaves behind, clenching around nothing. But he is rolling over on the bed and you follow.

You straddle his thighs. His hands go to your hips. He’s looking up at you like you’re the only person in the world, a dopey smile on his lips. You kiss it off before reaching behind you and lining his cockhead up to your hole.

A fresh wave of slick makes breaching yourself easy, and you bear down as the pressure builds. You both groan as he fills you. Again, this feel different, the angle sending sending all new sensations along your nerves. 

You finally settle against his hips, breathing heavily. Dean rubs his thumbs comfortingly in circles on the skin of your hips. You place one hand against his chest for balance and draw up on your knees again.

The pace you set is more punishing that the sweet lovemaking Dean had had going before. Every one of your downthrusts was matched with a thrusting up of his hips. You are where you never thought you would be, bouncing on your brother’s cock, hearing his moans and shouts of pleasure, most of them your own name. Your mouth is open in a silent scream as every thrust sends pleasure straight to your core. 

You bend forward for better leverage and suddenly you hit that spot inside that makes you shout out your pleasure. You try to do it again, and again lightning strikes up your spine and you shout. Soon every stroke is hitting that spot You’re going to come soon, but you need something else.

“Dean! Dean, I’m gonna! I need!” You barely know that you’re saying, but Dean knows, knows you better than yourself. He takes one hand off your hip and purses his lips as he starts stroking your cock.

“God, Sammy, you look so good, ridin’ my cock. Come for me, Sammy. God, you’re so hot,” Dean babbles, “Gonna knot you up good, Little Brother. No one else gets this. No one gets to see you this way, to fuck you like this, cause you’re mine.”

“Yes!’ you shout, so close “Yours, all yours!”

Suddenly Dean sits up and crushes you to him, burying his face in your neck. You grind yourself down on his dick, feeling his knot swell.

“Fuck, Dean. You gonna bite me? Gonna claim me?” You cry “Please! I wanna be yours!” 

With a growl, Dean latches on to your neck, biting down hard. It hurts, but feels so good, so right, at the same time. You come with your brother’s teeth in your skin and his knot spreading you wide, his cock pumping come deep inside you.

You come down embracing each other. He licks at the bite mark. When he kisses you, you taste your own blood. He looks you in the eye, looks down at your lips, then back again.

“I want you to bite me, too,” he says, voice gruff.

“What?”

“You, too. I want your mark.” 

You stare at him in confusion. It’s just not done; an Omega claiming an Alpha. It’s not necessary, it’s not right.

But when he stretches his neck out to you, it feels like ‘you’. You and him, Sam and Dean. You’re never going to be a normal couple, so why start?

You feel him stiffen when you close your lips around his flesh, Alpha instinct kicking in, yelling “Wrong!”, but he is still. You breathe in, and out, taste the skin under your lips, and bite down hard. Blood blooms into your mouth, and Dean sighs. You feel another wash of come fill you. Interesting, but to explore another time.

You disengage. Then kiss Dean. It’s sloppy and red.

Dean pulls the sheet up across you, wipes the come and blood from your bodies.

He scoots back so he’s against the headboard. The movement jostles you here you’re over sensitive and you whine. Dean huffs and presses your head against his un-bloodied shoulder. 

When you’re almost asleep, Dean speaks.

“About that pressing concern I mentioned... “ he begins.

“Huh?” You had thought he had wanted to talk about the to of you, thought your love making and mating would have put that subject to rest.

“Your heat. How long did you say it was before you came to me?”

You pull back so you can look at each other while you talk. You think back.

“Oh, uh. Just that day. It started that morning. I waited as long as l could,”

“Oh,” he says, looking down, like he can’t look you in the eye, “It’s just…”

“Spit it out, Jerk.” 

He doesn’t take the bait, instead rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

“It should have been longer.” He finally says, “Three days at least!”

You stare at him dumbfounded, wondering why that matters at- then you get it.

“You think I caught?”

He finally looks you in the eye

“Yes. Probably the first time.”

“You think I’m pregnant?!” As if saying it another way would get a different answer.

Dean looks away and pinched the bridge of his nose between this fingers.

“You smell different,” he whispers

“The could be from our mating” you try and counter.

“No, this morning, as soon as I woke up. You smell… sweeter.”

You lay your head against his chest and he places a hand in your hair.

“Shit.” You always were rather eloquent.

“Yeah,” Dean agrees.

“Dad’s gonna kill us” you say

“Dad’s gonna kill me,” Dean replies, “You he’s gonna lock away forever.”

You sit and breathe as you realize just what being an Omega means, beyond being Dean’s. Being a ‘ruined’ Omega in this world, without your Alpha, without Dean.  


It comes to you slowly. An idea near impossible, but with chances of success.

“Let’s run way.” you breathe into your mate’s chest.

You feel rather than hear his deep breath. The hand in your hair clutches. You know he’s going over in his head just like you did, the chances at happiness.

“Okay” he finally says.

So that’s what you do.


	3. Together Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several months later John finds them.

John finds them several months later.

He picks the lock of their small two-bedroom and quietly tries to sneak in, because of course he does. Dean's ready for it. 

He's sitting in the ratty old recliner they had picked up at a rummage sale for ten bucks. The shotgun across his knee, well, that was the only weapon they had taken with them when they ran.

John's back stiffens when he hears the telltale shotgun cock behind him. Slowly, he raises his hands and drops his own gun, a pistol, on the floor.

"Not exactly the greeting I'd expected, son." John drawls

"Don't know or care what you expected, but this is the one you get," Dean replies, muzzle of the gun not wavering from his father's leather-clad back, "For trying to surprise us in our beds." 

John sighs wearily, "I come home from a hunt, my children missing, some lame note on the kitchen table... How am I supposed to act? " 

He talks as he slowly starts to turn around. Dean stands and raises the barrel of the shotgun in warning, but John keeps his hands high and clear. 

"Like you aren't possessed, or being controlled, or kidnapped, or just plain in trouble, huh?"

"We told you to leave us alone," Dean snarls

"And you thought I would?" John counters, moving incrementally closer to his son now that they are face to face.

"No," Dean answers, "That's why we covered our tracks, made it impossible to find us."

"Not impossible enough, clearly."

"You're only here cause we wanted you to find us. You're early by a month or so, but they do say you're the best."

John moves quick as a flash, removing a bottle he had tucked up his sleeve and dousing Dean in Holy Water. 

Dean flinches, but proper trigger control keeps him from firing the gun. He wipes moisture from his face and gives his father a disparaging look.

"Not a demon, Dad."

"Then a shapeshifter! Or a ghoul! Or there's a hex bag somewhere controlling you! I will figure it out, Dean, or whoever you are, I promise you that!"

"Dean?" Sam's voice comes from the back of the apartment.

"Go back to bed, Sam," Dean says without taking his eyes off John, "I've got it under control."

Dean knows the moment Sam steps in to the living room by how big John's eyes get looking at his younger son. At eight months along, Sam looked like nothing more than a mop that had eaten a watermelon whole (the hair didn't help stop the comparison at all).

Dean glances back at Sam, wanting to tell him again to go back to bed, to let Dean take care of this. Mistake.

John is immediately on him, knocking the gun from his hands and bunching his fists in the collar of Dean's shirt. Sam yells and starts forward. Dean wraps one hand around his father's fists and holds the other up so Sam will stop.

"What the fuck, Dean?" John shakes him on every other word for emphasis, "You were supposed to take care of your brother, protect him, not let some knothead go and get him knocked up!"

"I didn't!" Dean tries to get a word in edgewise, "I didn't let anyone near Sammy!" But John is not done.

"You think I wouldn't want to know about this, Dean? You think just because you let him down that I would, too? What were you thinking, huh?"

"I never let Sam down!" Dean finally breaks free of his father's hold, "And I didn't just let some strange alpha near him! I never would!"

"Then what the FUCK happened?" John is red in the face, hands opening and closing into fists at his sides.

"I did," Sam finally comes between his father and brother, neither of whom had noticed just how tall Sam had gotten, dwarfing them both by an inch or more. They stared at him now, suddenly cowed by the pregnant omega.

"Dean didn't do anything wrong. I presented when Dean had his rut, and I went to him. The baby is Dean's. We're mated, we're married, and we are having this kid."

John, for once, had nothing to say. He stood stock still glancing back and forth between his sons as if he had missed a few months and they were going to yell 'April Fool's' or something that would make this go away.

Sam went to Dean's side, bent down to whisper something in his ear.

"What? Now?!" Dean sounded incredulous, the last word with a tinge of panic at the end.

Sam nodded, spreading his hands over his belly.

"Shit." Dean says, eloquently, then turned to his father, who was taking this all in with a blank expression on his face. Talking very slowly, like one might to a timid animal, he explained. "We need a ride, Sam's been having contractions all day, and now his water broke, we gotta get to the hospital"

This information seemed to go right over John's head. This time it’s Dean's turn to shake someone. "Dad, the baby's coming are you going to help us or not?!"

Broken from his disassociation, John wipes a hand down his face to his chin, "Fuck," he says, then points a finger at Dean, "We're not finished here. Get in the car."

Dean balks at the order in John’s tone, but they need the ride so he lets it slide and follows Sam into the back of the apartment to help pack a bag.

Fifteen minutes later John is sitting in the idling car, watching Dean carefully help Sam down the stairs and into the night.

“Hey, Baby,” Dean says as he slides one hand appreciatively over the Impala’s hood.

“You never call me Baby,” Sam jokes, even though his face is pinched in pain.

“You’re not my baby, you’re my brother,” Dean replies, planting a kiss on the side of Sam’s head. He glances at John, who stares steadfastly forward.

Dean guides Sam into the backseat, then gets in next to him. 

After Dean calls ahead, the drive to the hospital is quiet, save for Sam’s infrequent hisses of pain. At one point he whimpers. Dean shushes him gently and Sam tucks his head into his brother neck. At some point Dean’s hand comes to rest on the swell of Sam’s belly.

The leather of the steering wheel creaks under John’s white-knuckled fingers. Dual feelings of protectiveness and disgust warring inside him.

They pull up to the ER doors where a wheelchair and a nurse are already waiting. Sam is whisked away in a cloud of medical jargon after Dean assures him he’ll be right behind them.

“Thanks for the ride,” Dean says, not even turning to look at his father, instead tracking Sam’s progress through the glass doors.

“I-” John starts.

“So, you found us,” Dean cuts him off, “and you know. Happy now?”

“That’s not fair! I thought you boys were taken! Or dead! For months, I-”

“But all we are is living the life you don’t want us to.”

“Bullshit this isn’t the life I want for you! It’s all I’ve ever wanted for you! But why does it have to be…” John futilely gestured with his hands, trying to find the right word.

“Together?” Dean supplies “Well, I reckon, all we’ve ever had was each other. Day in and day out we were together, we each know the other better than anyone else, probably better than any ‘normal’ couple out there. And it makes us happy, so why not?” he finally turns to look his father in the eye, “I try not to think about it too much.”

John stares back at his eldest son, trying to make sense of everything this night has brought.

“I can’t do this,” he says finally, “It’s too much.” He takes the car keys out of his pocket, tosses them to Dean, who catches them easy.

“She’s yours,” John says, “you got a kid, you need a car.”

Dean stares open mouthed between the keys and John, still speechless even as his father begins to walk away.

“Hey!” he yells at John’s retreating back “Is this key chain silver?”

“Don’t blame an old man for trying” John shouts back before the darkness swallows him up.

\------

Five years later Dean gets a call from a number he doesn’t recognize. They leave a voicemail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Dean seems OOC regarding his stance on his father going by the time frame in canon, but I figured he had many months to think about his father and his upbringing and how he wants to raise his own very real not hypothetical child and so then comes around a lot sooner than in canon
> 
> there will be a timestamp for this fic posted soon

**Author's Note:**

> don't know when I'll be updating this, so subscribe if you want to be notified with I do


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